The debt
by El loopy
Summary: [Musical based] Fosco never usually took a gamble on something unless he was sure he could win...but he was in London, and she owed him...and really he couldn't resist. Sequel to my oneshot 'Echoes'. Marian x Fosco.
1. Prologue

The debt

_A/N This is a sequel to my oneshot 'Echoes'. I recommend reading that before embarking on this story. It was 6 years ago that I published that oneshot and it has taken me this long to finally sit down and finish what I started. This is unabashedly Marian x Fosco. I hope you enjoy._

Prologue

'_My dearest Miss Halcombe,'_

Marian's heart dropped in her chest as she read the flowing script of the letter. She knew who the author was before even reading the signature. The elegant handwriting dripped with his character, the words she could actually hear him speak, as though he were standing behind her, hands on her shoulders, whispering them in her ear. She longed for the blissful ignorance and subtle bewilderment of five minutes ago, to return to before she opened the mysterious envelope. She knew with utmost certainty the subject of the correspondence and it was with a heaviness she read further.

'_My dearest Miss Halcombe,_

_I do hope that you are well. I would be most honoured if you would care to accompany me to a formal event that is being held by Lady Thornby in London on the evening of the 14__th__ July. It will be the most luxurious ball you have ever attended and I wish for you to be there with me.'_

Marian narrowed her eyes as she continued to read.

'_A beautiful gown would be most appropriate but I will ensure to provide you with the means to shine like the stars. I am certain that you are very busy and have many other claims on your time, however I would like to draw your attention to our conversation in Paris of a few months ago. I know you understand.'_

She gritted her teeth. Veiled threats. Yes, she certainly did understand. The rest of the letter was made up of instructions as to the inn he was staying in and what time she was expected to arrive. He would sort out a room for her since it would be far too late for her to return home after the event. She scowled at that. At the end of the lengthy correspondence he had signed off:

_I anticipate your arrival eagerly my dear._

_ Fosco. _

Marian put the letter down slowly and stared at it. She couldn't tell anyone. She would have to deceive Laura and Walter and go alone with no one to know where she went. She knew Fosco knew that too, but she couldn't bring anyone else into this. It was between her and him. She had caused the mental anguish of her sister and now was dedicating her life to make up for it. With a sigh Marian got to her feet. She better start making preparations.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The room of the inn was exquisite. Marian couldn't help but admire the elaborate furniture and carved four-poster bed that dominated the room. There was a comfortable amount of space for movement around the dresser, wardrobe and vanity, and a small writing table tucked away in the corner. Slowly she removed her coat. Obviously, she thought with some bitterness, it was paid for by numerous scandalous and morally grey-shading-to-black exploits. Nonetheless it was still rather beautiful.

"The Count sends you his greetings and says he most looks forward to seeing you later at luncheon," the servant who had shown her to her room set down her case. "He will send someone to fetch you at the appointed time…" like he had sent the carriage to fetch her from the station she added in her head. "The Count's room is through the adjoining door…"

Marian's eyes flew in a panic to the previously unnoticed item of horror and back to the significantly blank expression of the servant. "He said that if you needed anything you should just knock…or call one of the staff for assistance." With that the man left the room, slowly closing the door behind him.

Immediately, on hearing the click of the latch, Marian flew to the adjoining door and checked it over. The sigh of relief that escaped her was audible as she found it was locked on her side. So it was just Fosco being Fosco. She sifted a hand through her hair in irritation. He didn't actually expect anything but kept up appearances. Shaking her head Marian went to her case and started to unpack. A maid would probably be there soon to help her get ready for luncheon and she wanted to get her bearings first.

Fosco did not normally take luncheon in a small private room when he was on trips of leisure because it was easier to make conversation otherwise, but when he was entertaining private guests he did not much like distractions.

He realised again that he was playing a most dangerous game. Fosco never gambled unless he was very sure that he would win. This particular game was much out of the ordinary. Miss Marian was a highly skilled opponent, someone he'd do best to avoid, but he was inviting her to join him nonetheless. The temptation was almost too tantalising to deny. Fosco had never cared too much for anyone else in particular unless it served him in some way and a common theme in his life was once a door was closed he would not try to open it again. The past was the past. Yet a certain conversation in Paris had been playing on his mind and he was in London and she owed him a favour. It was too good an opportunity. She was the one failed conquest that bothered him…and yet all he intended from his plan was to see her again, to duel once more…and of course to know that he had her in a situation where he had the power. Nothing else was expected to happen. The adjoining room was merely a chance card, better to have the option open than not there at all. It was a mere creation of a possibility, but mostly just for the entertainment of imagining her face when she saw it. Exceptional.

The door opened and Fosco grinned at the delight which entered; a treat for him to enjoy all evening.

"Miss Halcombe, my dear, beautiful as ever."

Ah, that embarrassed blush. She didn't believe him. Pity. If she would let him he would show her exactly what he thought about her.

"Was your journey satisfactory?"

As Marian entered the private room she was very aware of what she was wearing, of what she looked like. She had changed from her travelling clothes into something more suitable, modest and perfunctory. Distantly she wished that she were wearing a more beautiful dress. Fosco was used to entertaining beautiful women. She wondered why she cared. Quickly she pushed the thoughts far to the back of her mind, and reminded herself that she did not want to impress Fosco. Distracted by these thoughts she didn't notice that she had entered the room until she found herself looking straight at him. She had meant to steel herself against the shock like the time she had met up with him in Paris.

Seeing him in such close proximity made her insides lurch strangely. That face she knew, always gentle when looking at her, except when she had betrayed him – only then marred by disappointment – and the odd bitterness in Paris. Those hands she knew, brushing her arm in a passing touch, holding her in his apartment. Those eyes she knew, shining strangely as he looked her over, glinting deviously, full of sadness. Those lips she had known pressed against her own…

"Miss Halcombe, my dear, beautiful as ever."

A blush spread over her cheeks before she could stop it. She was Marian. She did not blush, and she did wish he wouldn't flirt and joke about her appearance, but maybe that was part of her punishment.

"Was your journey satisfactory?"

Marian gave a curt nod and sat down woodenly at the table, "perfectly satisfactory thank you," she replied, mentally adding that she would have preferred not to make it at all.

"And your room?"

Marian looked at him sharply and narrowed her eyes. Fosco merely observed her over his glass of wine wearing a falsely innocent expression. The devilish twinkle in his eye and quirk of his lips gave it away. She couldn't suppress the smile on her own lips.

"It is very beautiful, though there is one unsettling thing about it…"

"Ah!" Fosco put down his glass and flourished his hands, "I knew! These places, they do not understand what a lady needs to be comfortable." He placed his palms flat on the table and leaned in. "The room, she is too big, yes? That is why I requested an adjoining door for your room. More comfortable to share." He grinned and leant back, picking up his glass as he did so. "Do you not think it a good idea Miss Halcombe?"

"Oh yes," she nodded in mock agreement, "but you made one small error Count."

He raised his eyebrows expectantly, "and what is that Miss Halcombe?"

She pretended to look surprised, "Why, the fact that the adjoining door leads to _your_ room."

Only Fosco could make her respond that way. Only he made her feel confident enough to speak so mischievously.

She smiled at his expression so innocently that he laughed.

"Miss Halcombe!" he placed a hand over his heart in mock pain and tilted his head to the ceiling. "You cut me to the core. I forgot how skilled you are at the verbal duel." He dropped his head back and swept his eyes completely up and down her body before meeting her eyes and there was such a spark and electricity that her stomach dropped rapidly. Marian felt her breathing freeze as his gaze caught and lingered. The depth shook her, washed over her, drowning her.

"But so you know Miss Halcombe," came his quiet voice, eyes still locked on her own, "I made no mistake."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Marian was having a crisis of morality, and that was not a common occurrence. She had always done what she thought was right, regardless of whether she had later been found wrong. If indeed she was found wrong she always endeavoured to make amends. This philosophy had suited her very well in the past. Yes it was not right to enter a gentleman's home and use said gentleman's affections for her and his vanity to seduce and manipulate him for information. When said gentleman, however, was the accomplice in the alleged murder of her sister and the information was such that could bring about justice then she found her conscience clear; if, that is, she chose to ignore those odd pangs of regret for using him and not taking him up on his rather wonderful sounding offer. Equally making a bargain with the gentleman and meeting with him in secret to repay her end of the bargain was not a problem – it was, after all, to protect her dearly beloved sister whom she would never let suffer again.

The crisis of morality Marian was facing was whether it was right or wrong to be attracted to the unscrupulous and diabolical gentleman in question who was, at that moment, sat across from her, looking very well in his chosen ensemble for the evening. Was it also right or wrong to enjoy the rather indiscreet looks that he was casting in her direction – making her feel…desirable. Marian pushed these thoughts as far back as she could. She was _not_ beautiful, she was _not _desirable, and as soon as the count had more fodder for his eyes to feast on he would certainly no longer be looking at her.

"The dress looks good on you Miss Halcombe."

Marian jumped and blushed, glancing down at the beautiful material of deep purple that modestly clung to her body.

"Thank you Count," she mumbled, her eyes cast down. "It was a good choice."

She missed the mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Much more suitable than scarlet."

Her head jerked up in shock and met his smile, searching for any bitter undertones. There were none. A mirroring smile twitched the corner of her mouth.

"Definitely more suitable than scarlet," she agreed, secretly thinking she would never wear scarlet again for as long as she lived.

"Now Miss Halcombe, don't make such enormous decisions as that on a mere whim." Marian looked at him. She surely hadn't said that out loud? The Count was eyeing her unabashedly, a seductive undercurrent to his voice.

"It would be a pity. You look so _ravishing_ in scarlet."

Marian blanched. So she had said it out loud.

"I don't think this is an entirely appropriate conversation Count," she managed to force out, falling back onto propriety.

"I think we are a little beyond that, don't you agree Miss Halcombe?"

The memories of that night were in the carriage, dancing in the air between them.

"_That dress you're falling out of is exquisite."_

"_We're meant for one another…we are so well matched."_

"_I've been waiting all my life for an adventure." _

_His response, "What in truth you have been waiting for is me."_

_The kiss. The dizzying kiss. _

She was burning inside and Fosco was looking at her intently. Flustered Marian turned to look out of the carriage window, her thoughts more confused than before, and in that state she remained until the carriage arrived at its destination.

They entered the dazzling ballroom, so spacious it made Marian's head swim, and thronging with the privileged elite. At the sight of the countless people Marian felt herself shrink and crawl back into her shell. Beauties dressed in reams of silken fabric eyed up the Count with hungry expression before proceeding to give Marian scornful looks.

Fosco felt her grip on his arm tighten and smiled to himself. It was so intriguing that the bold Marian Halcombe was terrified by large crowds of people. It would ensure that she would remain by his side all evening.

"Would you care to dance Miss Halcombe?" he asked her cordially and scared eyes flew up to his.

"No…thank you Count…"

"A drink then?" he announced and glided her across the room against any possible protest.

"Fosco!"

Marian was forced to stop as the Count to turned to greet a willowy blonde creature encased in pale blue material that made her look almost ethereal.

"My dear," Fosco bent his head over her fine hand and Marian felt a nasty jolt in her gut, which felt suspiciously like jealousy.

"How is my favourite duchess?" he purred with a twinkle and the duchess gave a sparkling laugh.

"All the better for you being here my darling Count. Things will get decidedly more entertaining." She lightly touched his shoulder and gave a flirtatious smile that made Marian inwardly scowl.

"My manners," the Count said suddenly, and shifted so Marian was forced into the conversation.

"Allow me to introduce my guest, Miss Halcombe."

The pale blue eyes swept from Fosco's face to eye up Marian with a malicious gleam.

"Charmed," came the poisonous response and though Marian's anger flared at the poor treatment, her esteem whispered that it was nothing she shouldn't have expected. She was nothing in comparison with these beauties, glamorous and rich, who poured sweetness and flattery into Fosco's ear. She was plain and nothing, worse than nothing, the schemer and manipulator. She had spoken flattery but once to him, in order to trick. This was her punishment. She would endure.

"Dance with me Count?" the blonde pleaded coyly, placing her hands on his free arm. He smiled at her flirtatiously and Marian felt herself fade into invisibility.

"Miss Halcombe?" he raised his eyebrows at her in a question and without a word she released his arm, taking it as a request to let go.

Inwardly Fosco frowned. He would have preferred to dance with Miss Halcombe, but he could not refuse the Duchess.

Marian stepped back to the edge of the room and watched the graceful couple, feeling miserable. Taking a deep breath she drew herself up straight and pretended she were a stone, unmoving and uncaring.

"_Fosco really has his eye on the Duchess tonight,"_ came the whispers. _"Can you blame him?" "Not really. He came with someone else though…her, over there." "Plain girl. Not sure why he brought her…" "No wonder he dances with the Duchess."_

As she heard the whispers and watched the dancing Fosco bent his head to speak something in his partner's ear and she giggled, murmuring something back. The tightening in her stomach became painful and Marian felt her resolve crumble. Sometimes being stone wasn't enough. She couldn't breath, couldn't stay here…if she left he probably wouldn't care…might not even notice.

With head held high Marian strode towards the exit and straight out of the ballroom into the corridor.

Fosco watched her go, swiftly excused himself from his partner and followed Marian into the corridor.

"Miss Halcombe, where are you going?"

The lilt halted her in her tracks. The practicality of the situation struck her. She couldn't leave on the grounds that she didn't actually know where she was. A deep shuddering breath racked her body. She would not cry, firstly because it was senseless and secondly because she could not have a large group of strangers knowing that she had been crying.

"Miss Halcombe?" He had halted some feet behind her in the empty corridor.

"Let me go back to the inn please, Count Fosco," she requested quietly, not looking at him.

"But the night, she is still young," he bantered back in his jovial manner, but his voice was as quiet as her own. She felt his hand on her arm and spun to face him, blinking back tears.

"Ah, Miss Halcombe!"

"Let me go home," she demanded, aware that his hand still lingered on her bare skin, and the feeling in her stomach was suffocating.

"But you have not yet fulfilled your payment, as was out agreement," his eyes glittered. "I desire that you stay." There was a hard undertone to his voice and she once again felt trapped by him. Any other circumstance she would have been more than a match for him but he had upset her balance. The knowledge made her anger flare.

"Payment I agreed to give you, and I even allowed this form of payment, knowing it was a punishment, because I deserve it." The briefly tightened grip on her arm could almost have been her imagination. "I know Fosco that I am undesirable and you flirt with me to mock me. I know I don't belong here with all these beautiful, glamorous people. You parade me in front of them so they can whisper and gossip and I take it all. I'm used to it. Do you really have to make your point so strongly? Do you really have to hold me up to the most beautiful in order to compare me? So that you and everyone else can find me wanting? I understand already. You don't have to press the point..." Marian trailed off as her voice disappeared behind a closed sob. She would have moved away but his hand still held her arm and his eyes held hers. Now he raised an eyebrow, face serious.

"Compare?"

She bit her bottom lip and looked away.

"Does it bother you, Miss Halcombe, that I flirt with other beautiful women?" She took a deep breath and couldn't look at him.

"Marian," he said softly. Her head came up in surprise. "The evening, she is not a punishment." She wanted to scowl but his face was serious. "Now, Miss Halcombe," he let her go and took a step back, his face beaming and jovial again, "if you would care to accompany me back inside."

She took his offered arm because there was nothing else to do. Rebellion struggled inside her, telling her to just leave anyway. She had survived in London alone before, but he was right. Her payment had not yet been completed.

As they entered together back into the glittering light and flow of voices she felt that shrinking inside again, like a snail vanishing into its shell. Every muscle automatically tensed and her mouth lost the ability to form words, but just as she paused insecurely she felt a soft grip on her arm and a whispered voice in her ear.

"You, mi cara," Fosco breathed, "are the equal of everyone in this room, in beauty and in character."

Startled she turned to him and his eyes flashed strangely in a serious face.

"Now we dance," he told her and offered his hand.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The carriage moved smoothly along the roads back to the inn. It was dark and comfortable and the rocking motion would have eased her off to sleep were she not so_ awake. _Across from her Fosco remained awake also. She could not see his face through the darkness inside the carriage but she knew his eyes were on her. At one time she would have stayed wide awake in fear but now something had shifted. Once he had desired her, inconceivable as it was, and leapt at the chance to have her in his bed. She had tricked him, manipulated him and thought that had been the end. Surely only retribution and humiliation remained…this blackmail surely proved it…and yet…

She recalled the way he had spoken to her, earnest and affectionate, and the way his eyes had devoured her across the lunch table. She could still feel his hands on her waist, on her back, brushing her arms as they danced. He had lavished as much attention as courteousness allowed on her alone and when she had been made to stand aside as he danced with other women she drew herself up regally until he returned again. It was a shock how much confidence those few words he had spoken gave her.

Now she could feel his eyes burning through the dark, smouldering across her skin. The atmosphere in the carriage was too charged to allow sleep.

When the inn came into view she was suddenly nervous.

"Fosco…" she started but he hushed her as the carriage rattled to a stop.

"Say nothing Miss Halcombe," he breathed and was out the carriage first so he could offer her a hand down.

"Now, Miss Halcombe," he whispered as they walked towards the inn doors, her hand on his arm maybe no longer just for show, "now I will tell you what happens next."

Marian felt the blood rush through her veins as every sense became over alert.

"Your favour," Fosco continued, noting her tension, "she is complete." He was almost surprised at the sadness in his tone; surely he could not care for her company so greatly. He could much easily fill his time with other young maidens or diabolical company should he choose to do so. A new scheme he could apply his mind to would do the trick splendidly…and yet he had said to himself that would she let him he would show her what he thought of her. She had unwillingly offered him that opening. He had found the chink in her armour and though he could have used it against her in revenge he had found greater pleasure in repairing it. The result left him breathless. She had leaned on him, trusted him and drawn strength from him. For the first time he had Marian Halcombe vulnerable and seeking his protection. She had allowed and welcomed his attentions and his touch. This gamble, this game, was suddenly taking a turn he had not foreseen nor allowed for, yet he would take up the challenge and see it though to the end. Fosco was usually very cautious with gambles but this time, although it was no longer predictable and became more serious by the second, he would take the risk. He would always take the risk when it came down to Miss Halcombe.

"Don't look so worried my dear. Bravisima. You were an angel this evening. The payment is fulfilled."

He had stopped and turned to gaze down at her and she gazed right back. The tension had left her shoulders but emotions fought across her face.

Marian didn't know whether to be angry, elated or devastated. No debt meant no more Fosco...was that good or not? Again with the moral crisis. As she gazed up at him she felt a strangeness settle over her as she looked into his eyes and suddenly she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to feel his lips again when she was not manipulating him. Slowly Fosco lifted his hand and caressed her cheek, running a finger lightly over her lips.

"Miss Halcombe," he murmured, "you must head back to your room. Go now."

Her eyes widened at the urgency in his voice and as she looked at him the burning desire in his eyes caused her nearly to gasp. With great effort he took his hand away and stepped from her.

"I will follow behind. I cannot see you to your room. Go Miss Halcombe."

In a state of bewilderment Marian turned and headed away from him, through the doors and up to her room.

Fosco shook his head.

"Ah, Miss Halcombe, you make me honourable, yes?" He chuckled to himself and headed upstairs after her.

Marian sat and waited. She heard the creak of his footfalls down the corridor and the cessation as they paused outside her door. After a moment they moved on and there was a click of a door opening and shutting. Slowly her eyes rested on the adjoining door. He was behind there right now. It was with great effort that Marian continued to ready herself for bed.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

She awoke in the middle of the night. In reality she knew that 'middle' probably wasn't the correct term as they had arrived back at the inn in the early hours of the morning. She must have been asleep only a mere couple of hours at most.

Marian lay still on the bed, eyes staring up at the blackened ceiling, letting the fuzz of darkness press on her eyes and she wondered what had wakened her.

Ears pricked, straining for the slightest noise, she lay still, keeping her breathing shallow. Sleep nearly claimed her again before she heard a dull thump and startled awake, her eyes trained suddenly on the adjoining door. It was Fosco, she knew it. Without thinking she slipped out of bed and fumbled her way through the darkness until her fingers brushed the smooth wood. She stood there for what could have been seconds or tens of minutes; time meant nothing in the dark. She registered that she was foolish to remain standing yet the thought was not accompanied by action. The effort to make her feet go back towards the bed required more thought than her sleep fogged mind could manage. No more noise came from beyond the door and with the silence came worries, irrational and unfounded. Marian acknowledged that though her mind felt wide awake it was still half asleep and it was silly for her to fear that something had happened to Fosco when there was no reason to. She _knew_ that she should go back to bed, yet she could not drag herself from the door. Marian watched as she responded to impulse, sure that she could not sleep until she had checked on Fosco.

Her hand moved to the latch, unlocked the adjoining door and eased it open. The light in the room startled her as she blinked in it, though as they adjusted she could see that it came from only one lamp, sat on a small table.

"Miss Halcombe?"

She turned to the voice. Fosco sat in a chair next to the lamp, a book resting on his lap, fingers caught in the pages.

"Are you unwell?" The concern in his voice was not lost on her, nor that to him he must be taking to a shadow in the shadows beyond the lamp light. When she did not respond a smile twitched the corners of his mouth. "Do not say you sleep walk like your sister?"

Marian was frozen in place. The count was dressed down in merely a half open shirt and trousers. She had never seen him so casual, had almost not considered it of him. It looked good.

"Miss Halcombe?" he had raised his eyebrows at the prolonged silence, worry now evident in his voice as he half got to his feet. Her brain jumped to life with a start.

"Oh! I'm sorry, no, I didn't mean...to disturb...I just woke up...thought...something was wrong. I just...just wanted to...check." Her voice trailed off and she felt incredibly stupid. She let her breath out in a hiss and touched her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm half asleep. You are, of course, fine. I will return to my room."

"Just a moment Miss Halcombe," he halted her as she turned away. "I must satisfy myself that you are not unwell."

Marian turned back without protest; sleep teasing the edge of her mind, numbing her to propriety and sense. Without hesitation she stepped further into the lamplight.

Fosco inhaled sharply.

"Miss Halcombe," there was a steely edge to his words, "do you try to make the fool of me again?"

Marian didn't understand. She blinked in the lamplight and gazed at the Count.

"What do you mean?"

His eyes glinted in anger.

"You, of course, come here in your night things." Marian glanced down at her nightdress and plucked it with her fingers, understanding suddenly coming in a rush of colour in her cheeks. "It's a more subtle seduction than before. I congratulate you." He spoke bitterly and Marian felt a nasty tug inside her and a steady rip as the stitches slowly woven over the evening were pulled away, leaving the wound as gaping as before.

"You think that's why I'm here?" she hissed angrily.

He raked his eyes over her deliberately and met her angry gaze. He didn't try to hide the desire burning on his countenance.

Marian was indignant and furious, pressing the reaction her body had at that look firmly into a box.

"You think I'm some sort of whore?" Her voice cracked.

Fosco glared at her. "What else am I to think Miss Halcombe?"

"That I came here precisely for the reason that I said. The truth, Fosco."

"You English have a phrase. Make the fool of me once…"

The verbal blow stung like he had physically struck her. She had been stupid to believe he had forgiven her. Stupid to believe he could forget. This evening had been about payback. As much as previous events had seemed to point otherwise the fundamental root of why she was here remained the same. She had forgotten and that was her error.

"What am I after this time then?" she snapped. "Unless you have my sister locked up again. You were not blameless for what occurred before, Fosco."

Suddenly she found her back pressed to the wall and his face inches from her own.

"I did not trifle with your affections Marian. Mine, they were always clear."

Her eyes clashed with his in battle since she was unable to match him physically.

Her voice dropped, undisguised hurt rippling throughout. "You manipulated me then, just like you manipulated me tonight."

Fosco inhaled with a hiss.

"Miss Halcombe. For all your intelligence you can not, _will_ not see the truth. You will not acknowledge the evidence of your own eyes." His voice dropped to a bare whisper. "Don't be a fool."

The truth sat in front of her and looked at her, looked so deep it burned into her and she couldn't ignore it any longer.

Her voice trembled in denial. "You only flirt and flatter…"

He did not respond. He did not need to. His gaze held hers steady.

"Boredom…"

"That is not all and you are aware of it," he interrupted, cutting across a further excuse. "Your character Miss Halcombe is what draws me. Your fire. Your joi de viva. Acknowledge the truth Miss Halcombe and stop hiding in your shell."

She did. Every word ever uttered, this time and the last, took on its true meaning. Every promise that he would take her away with him, that if she would only let him he would show her pleasures she had not dreamed of. The exhale of breath and the expression on her face were enough to show him that she believed what he said. A new light had come on in her eyes and he smiled at it.

"As I said before Miss Halcombe, we are each other's moon and sun."

The shadow dropped almost as quickly back over her face.

"We may be a match Fosco, but we would never work. You cannot forgive me or trust me after what happened."

"You speak of trust, Miss Halcombe but you will not return it," came his cold response.

Marian refused to drop her gaze. "I did tonight," she whispered.

The air stilled in the room. The only sound was their heavy breathing as they stood pressed together against the wall. Hurt and pain swirled in the air around them like a toxic gas.

"Tell me, miss Halcombe," Fosco finally broke the silence, his breath stirring over her skin as his eyes dropped to her lips and back, "if I followed through tonight as I did before, would you act like you did then?" She didn't quite understand but the look in his eyes made her shiver in anticipation. "You begged me to let you go," he whispered, his mouth lingering over her own, "would you do that tonight?"

Marian's wide, hurt filled eyes registered the intensity and seriousness in Fosco's own and her stomach lurched as she realised with absolute certainty that she would not.

"Fosco…" the tone told him all he needed to know. With slow confidence he slipped his arms around her, turning the aggressive stance into a lover's embrace.

Marian felt her head swim as he pressed a light kiss to her forehead, warm hands through the fabric of her night gown pressing her closer. This was it. This was what she had been missing, what she had wanted and hoped and dreamed of. With a sigh she melted into him, wrapping her own arms around him, resting her head against his chest.

"I can open up a world you've only heard of," he whispered.

A flashback. A memory of a feeling. A sickening jolt to the stomach. A revelation that made her want to cry and in an instant her happiness was snatched from her.

Marian placed her hands on Fosco's chest and pushed him gently away.

"I can't. I can't do this. I can't go with you."

The words dripped from her lips like molten wax, solidifying as they hit the air.

There was a beat, a breath, and then the cold look seeped over Fosco's face. His hands dropped from her to his sides.

"I do not believe I offered Miss Halcombe." There was an edge of steel to his voice. He knew. He knew why she said it. The reason was the same now as it had been those years ago. "After all, your sister…"

He let the sentence hang, the meaning perfectly clear. He spoke as though he was disinterested in the matter but Marian could feel his withdrawal from her and the tension in his body. His words stung and she deserved them. Marian dropped her eyes to the carpet. Standing in this room with the lights low, a bare inch of carpet separating her from this great man, and she desperately wanted to be held in his arms yet she was overwhelmed by guilt. She had promised. It was her fault that Laura was so fragile and her fault that so much wrong had occurred. It was her duty to protect her sister and yet here she was, standing in some remote inn room with the man who had incarcerated her sister, contemplating fleeing with him to the continent. She was contemplating being happy with him.

What an ultimate betrayal that would be.

"Fosco – I…" she looked up at him, and the look in his eyes shattered her. It felt like she had plunged a knife into herself and were slowly dragging it through. The look of pure disdain in his eyes finished her.

"Thank you for yesterday. I will never forget it," she managed to utter, before she thrust herself from him and left the room with her head held high, locking the door behind her.

Only then did she let the tears come.

Fosco stared at the shut door and damned the past. The door was shut and locked and bolted, in every literal and metaphorical sense, so he should move on. Never in all his life had Count Fosco wanted to rattle a metaphorical handle, or even go as far as to break down a door, so much. He had always walked away. Now he found himself helplessly frozen. If he was admitting the truth to himself he wanted her with him on his sojourn about the continent. There was a distinctly lacking element at points and he had finally come to the conclusion that it was her. It was her conversation and her company. Yes he could do without it but he wanted it. He noticed the absence of it. So now he was left once again without her, and once again it was the fault of the sister. Fosco was never one for regretting a morally grey deed, but he could hardly help the regret now when it had not only struck him once, but twice. Twice it had deprived him of something he wanted…he hazarded to say needed. It was apt that Fosco, when speaking to Glyde once, had referred to Laura as a thorn. She was the thorn on the rose that was Marian Halcombe. If he wanted to hold the rose close to him the thorn came between them. It cut and drew blood.

It was a few moments more before he stirred himself and promptly set to mentally pushing Miss Marian Halcombe back into the box he never should have opened.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_My dearest Marian, I am sending news of our current whereabouts as requested to the address you have provided. We have taken up residence in the town house and will be staying no more than a week. I hope all is well and that you will come see us soon. Do not delay dearest. Your loving sister, Laura._

Marian crumpled the letter inside her coat pocket as she rattled towards the town house in the cab the inn had provided for her. She had wept herself into a fitful sleep after rejecting Fosco once more. Her insides yawned with guilt of hurting him again, which warred with the guilt over betraying Laura. Both fought for dominance and sometimes one would win over the other. Her happiness lay in shreds as a casualty in the fight.

She had awoken early and rung for her breakfast, hardly wanting to eat but needing something hot to force away the still lingering remnants of a poor night's sleep. The note arrived with her chocolate, having been delivered and missed her the preceding night. At once Marian had been packed, dressed and had ordered her cab. She had fulfilled her payment. She had no further reason to stay. Yet her eyes hesitated on the adjoining door and her heart ached in such a way it was almost painful.

A piece of notepaper and pen ended up in her hand but she didn't know what to write. There was nothing she could say. No apology would cover it if she did not remain there to make it in person and there was no excuse that he hadn't already heard.

'I wish...' were the only words that appeared on the page before she screwed it up and threw it in the bin. She had said what she had to say last night. It was time to leave. Nevertheless her hand still found itself slipping a sealed note to the inn manager, on which she had written the words, '_I will never forget last night. It will be engraved on my memory until the day I die. All of it. Always.'_

Now the house was in sight and she was walking through the front door and her sister was greeting her with a hug. Everything was like a dream. They sat down in the drawing room and Laura was chatting about her latest exploits at various houses with Walter and how Anne had behaved very well except when she climbed a tree just to show the boys that she could! Marian noticed the colour in her sister's cheeks and the life in her eyes. It tortured her that if Laura knew what she had been doing not a few hours ago then she would go straight back into decline.

"Marian, are you all right? You look very weary." Marian registered the concern in her sister's eyes and tried to brighten up.

"I just had a bad night's sleep," she reassured, smiling weakly. Laura did not seem convinced but let it go and proceeded to tell Marian about the family's new plans.

"We are going abroad Marian! Its very exciting. Anne will greatly benefit from seeing more of Europe. Her governess is coming too." That was when the revelation struck her, somewhere in her middle, and made panic flood her veins. She was not invited to come.

"When did you decide this?" Marian managed to force out hoarsely.

"The plan has been in the making for some time." Laura said each word carefully, keeping a level gaze on Marian, cautiously measuring her reaction. "Walter and I have been talking...and...well..."

Marian dropped her eyes to her teacup and was studying the liquid dregs numbly when the next outburst startled her into splashing it.

"You need your own life Marian!"

The dark sister stared at the blonde in shock. The tension flashed in the atmosphere of the room, before Laura relaxed marginally and her eyes softened.

"What I mean is that...well...I cannot always keep you for myself. I had thought that maybe you being with us would encourage you to find someone; that it would put them in your path. When we were younger you always used to speak of love, of wanting to marry...but you seemed so uninterested in anyone..." Laura trailed off and gazed into her sister's pain-filled eyes. Her lip trembled. "Oh please don't look at me like that Marian. We want you with us, but you need to do all the things that _you_ want to do. I know your dreams. Remember when we used to whisper them together..." She took her sister's hands and gazed earnestly into her face. "Now you can." She gave the fingers a light squeeze. "You survived in London alone. You could do the same anywhere you choose. Go sightseeing. Visit all the places you've always wanted to."

Marian couldn't look any more. She was falling into a dark hole where loneliness clawed at her from every direction and her purpose was a rapidly dimming light. A heart already broken was crushed to dust...and then she was shaken from her reverie by a handful of soft spoken words.

"Sometimes I think you are punishing yourself deliberately. That you feel you are doing penance for something..." Laura trailed off. "You don't always have to protect me Marian."

"Yes I do." The words leapt forward unbidden and Marian knew there was no stopping the confession of the oath she had taken. "I failed you before. I let my own selfish interests get in the way and it nearly killed you. For a long time I thought I had." She paused and felt the tears burn. "I swore I would not fail you again." There was a silence and then a dry sob as Laura threw her arms around her sister and they both cried.

"Oh Marian, don't be such a fool. You're my sister." Laura leaned back and clasped her sister's shoulders. "You listen to me. You are released. I release you. It was a long time ago and it is all forgiven. Now go live your life!"

There had been a lot more crying and explaining, apologies and acceptance. Finally they had parted ways and now Marian sat alone in her room contemplating her wall and her future. The thing was...there was no man she'd been interested in because there was only one man that she was. Travelling the world alone would be very dull...unless she travelled with this one man. Ultimately, she supposed, she never had to tell her sister this one man's real name. The main problem with the whole idea was that she'd rejected him a mere twelve hours ago...for the second time. Marian sat and she thought and she came to a conclusion. He may have left already, but he may not have. He may say no...but there was a slim chance that he may not. Marian got to her feet and strode outside to the waiting cab. Twice before she had gone to Count Fosco and twice before she had left him. Third time lucky?


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N Thank you to LadyLizaElliott for your review. It is good to know that someone is reading and enjoying. Here is the final chapter.**

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Chapter 6

Marian re-entered the inn foyer she had vacated only that morning. It was the same man that came to greet her. He looked startled.

"Has Madame forgot something?"

Marian hesitated for a moment before drawing herself up to her full height and trying her best authoritative voice.

"Yes, I believe I have. Is Count Fosco still in residence?"

The owner raised his eyebrows before quickly wiping the sly expression off his face.

"He is partaking of dinner in the private room."

Marian felt the relief weep through her and then a sickening feeling.

"Is he alone?"

The man studied her closely and then nodded. Once again came the almost strength robbing relief.

"But I do not think he wishes to be disturbed..."

Marian feigned a serious expression.

"Yes, yes, I quite see your point." She slipped some money onto the table and looked hard at the man. "You never saw me come in."

He scooped up the coins on the table and winked at her. "Aye." Then he turned and walked away. Marian immediately made a bee line for the private room.

Once again she found herself approaching the ominous door that she had entered yesterday, a completely different person with a completely different attitude. The man on the other side was the same. This time Marian did hesitate and steel herself. Resolutely she twisted the handle, stepped through and closed it behind her.

Fosco looked up from examining his dinner. He had been lamenting the poor English food and regretting the choice to stay one more night in this forsaken inn. He knew he would not sleep again. He yearned for the sun and food of Italy, the pleasures and entertainments and comforts he could lose himself in. There he would be on his home turf and everything could begin to settle again. That was the plan at least. He had decided long ago that no endeavour was a catastrophe as long as you escaped. There was a nasty feeling that lurked, however, which told him that a simple removal to the continent would not equal an escape this time.

When the door opened and shut his eyes eyes flew to the source as his hand reached for he knife. It stilled. Marian stood there, looking radiant and on fire with eyes burning in determination, whilst her hand twitched nervously. For a moment Fosco could not help the admiration shine on his face before he schooled it back into cold indifference. Marian caught the look before it vanished and her heart leapt hopefully.

"What is it that you want now Miss Halcombe?" he asked with steel in his voice. It brought her down to earth. This was not going to be simple or easy. The same confidence that had flooded her when she had gone to seduce him that first time revived itself now. Slowly she let out the breath she was holding.

"Remember when we met in Paris and I asked you for a favour. As a payment in kind you told me what you wanted could only be freely given." She paused significantly and levelled her gaze at him. Fosco merely looked right back with no expression, but she knew he remembered. "I told you that if you required something else I would give it," she continued.

"Yes, and it has been fully paid, as I have told you Miss Halcombe." There was a small frown wrinkling his brow as e tried to work out why she was there. Marian gave a small smile before quickly wiping it off her face and continuing with a serious expression.

"I have another favour to ask..."

Fosco interrupted with a loud snort of disgust, getting abruptly to his feet.

"I see. You have just departed from your sister. Maybe she goes abroad and you wish me to avoid her."

Marian blinked and thought about this for a moment.

"Well yes, I guess so actually. It wouldn't be too difficult to get hold of her schedule." She shrugged and met Fosco's furious gaze. "But what I was going to say was that the payment for this new favour I have to ask would be different from the last."

Fosco waved a hand airily and scooped up his wine in a dismissive gesture.

"You feel you are in a position..."

She continued to talk regardless of his voice over her own.

"I will give you..."

"...to make this request..."

"...that which can only be..."

"...of me, Miss Halcombe."

"...freely given," she finished.

Fosco's eyes had lifted from the wine and were staring at her. Slowly he placed the glass on the table with a dull thunk and approached her until he was looming intimidatingly over her and she stared up small but defiant.

"You play with me Miss Halcombe." There was thinly veiled danger in his tone. Controlled anger vibrated through every word and slight shift of weight. He grasped her upper arms, firmly but not ungentle, and his voice hissed, "You would sell yourself for your sister."

Marian's eyes flashed with the only anger she'd had since she stepped in the room.

"I told you I am not a whore Fosco," she spat.

"And I said what am I supposed to think," he replied cuttingly. He released her arms and turned away. "Forget it Miss Halcombe."

Marian dropped her voice.

"You haven't heard the favour yet."

He froze with his back to her.

"Very well. Speak it."

Now Marian knew was the moment. This was when she would or would not convince him.

"You are right in saying I saw my sister and she is going abroad, but the important thing is that she forgave me and she released me. She found out why I never leave her side and she told me to live my own life." Marian paused, feeling the still fresh tears threaten again. She pressed them down. Fosco still hadn't looked at her.

"You have to understand, I couldn't stay. I had to pledge allegiance to Laura first. Mine was the worst kind of betrayal. I thought I'd killed her. Now she has let me go and I can finally make amends for my second betrayal."

Fosco turned to look at her now and his eyes were empty and remorseless.

"What is your favour Marian?"

Her courage failed her and she dropped her eyes again.

"You asked me to stay with you, twice, and twice I hurt you, turning from what I wanted and what you wanted. My favour, Fosco, is this..." she took a deep breath and met his eyes, "...will you take me with you this time?"

Complete silence fell over the room like a blanket. Neither Fosco nor Marian moved physically but minds raced. It occurred to her that if this man rejected her as she had him, like she justly deserved, then she had no back up plan. The thought was swept aside with the revelation that she didn't _want _a backup plan. She wanted Fosco. Still he had said nothing. Still he stared at her with an unreadable face.

"Fosco..." left her lips quietly, brokenly.

In two steps he was in front of her, gazing down.

"Marian."

She smiled then. "Is that a yes?"

He returned her smile with one of his own.

"Yes."

Then his hand cupped her head, tilting her to him and his lips covered hers with a dizzying ferocity.

_My dearest Laura, I hope you are doing well and the sights of the continent agree with you. Europe agrees with me very well and I can't thank you enough for releasing me. I am currently in Italy but will soon be moving onto France and then Spain! Keep well and give all my love to Walter and Anne. You loving sister, Marian._


End file.
